Guardians
by TwistedlySweetFiction
Summary: Sequel to "Too Close". Tim and Raylan take care of each other though sickness and injuries, along with whatever else comes their way! Raylan/Tim
1. Chapter 1

I do not own Justified or any of its characters. I'm just playing with them for my own amusement. I also do not own Rise of the Guardians.

This was written while I was really sick and sleeping on my couch in between watching kids movies and chick flicks.

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Clearly Tim had been out of his mind when he told Raylan to move in with him instead of trying to get his own apartment. Raylan had exactly four boxes of stuff to move from the motel to Tim's and those four boxes were already causing the sniper to twitch. Before Raylan moved in, Tim's apartment had been spotless and almost looked unlived in, then slowly as the week went by that whole image changed. It had been a nice feeling, knowing that a few of Raylan's books were on his shelves and his clothes in the closet. Then Tim had noticed some of those clothes not making to it a hamper or sitting clean and unfolded in a laundry basket next to the bed. A half read, dog eared book was left lying on the coffee table and dirty dishes stayed in the sink until Tim got sick of them and put them in a dishwasher.

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Raylan wasn't as clean of a person as Tim was and he was the first to admit that, but he honestly couldn't understand why Tim cared whether Raylan's shirts got hung in the closet or stayed in the damned basket next to their bed. It didn't make sense to Raylan at all, but when he started noticing the twitchy expression the sniper got every time something wasn't perfect, he knew it was time to either try to talk to Tim or start trying to learn to put everything away. The choice was obvious and when he got home that night Raylan made sure to not only hang up all his clothes, but also scrubbed the kitchen until it would have passed the strictest of inspections. The pleasantly surprised look on the sniper's face when he saw the effort clearly made the boring chores worth Raylan's efforts.

And so they co-existed for a time, with Tim striving to accept that Raylan left the cap off the toothpaste and had a habit of chewing toothpicks to pieces and leaving small splinters on the floor because he also knew that Raylan was making an effort to keep Tim's apartment as OCD clean as it had been before he moved in.

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Raylan was so used to having to try and keep things clean because of Tim, he was shocked to come home from transporting a prisoner to California to see balled up tissues overflowing a trashcan next to the coffee table and a mess of blankets on the floor, where they obviously fell off the couch. A little confused at the unhygienic mess that was in front of him, Raylan moved closer and noticed that several of the DVD's that were usually in alphabetical order on a shelf were tossed on the coffee table and T.V. stand in a decidedly unorganized manner. Placing his hat in a place where used tissues wouldn't be able to touch it, Raylan made his way down the hall, towards the bedroom. He was just walking into the dark room when he heard a pitiful moan come from the bathroom. Any confusion he had quickly went away when he caught sight of a clearly miserable Tim, who was sitting on the bathroom floor staring at several colorful boxes of cold medication.

"Tim?" Raylan said quietly as he crouched in front of the clearly sick marshal, who jumped and looked at him with a pitiful expression.

"I'm trying to find a phone number for the companies that make this shit," the sniper murmured in a voice that was gravely from coughing for several days.

"May I ask why?" Raylan asked curiously while reaching out with one hand to take a box from Tim's hand.

"Gonna track them down and shoot whoever said it was supposed to work on colds," was the answer Raylan got and he had to laugh before standing up and holding a hand out to help his boyfriend get up off the floor.

"How about I find that number for you and you go to bed?" Raylan suggested in an amused tone that went over Tim's head because the sniper nodded and slowly made his way out to the living room, coughing the entire way. Raylan followed close behind him and when Tim crawled onto the couch, draped a few of the blankets over him. After getting a mumble that he assumed was a 'thank you', Raylan set to work cleaning up the mess that Tim's cold had left the living room in, knowing that Tim would have wanted it done.

He was almost done putting all the movies back in their correct places when he heard Tim sit up and ask in an almost childlike tone, "Will you watch a movie with me, Ray?"

Glancing over his shoulder, Raylan smiled at the adorable expression on Tim's face and nodded, pulling a random movie from off the shelf. He didn't really pay attention to what movie it was until he was putting the disc in the DVD player and saw the animated characters on the movie case.

"Rise of the Guardians?" he muttered quietly to himself, and was about to take it out and put it back on the shelf when he heard Time say, "I love that one!"

Raising his eyebrows at the oddness that was a sick Tim, Raylan put the movie in and headed over to the couch where Tim gestured for him to sit where he could be used as a pillow. Resigning to his fate, Raylan pressed play when the movie's menu appear and started to run his fingers through Tim's hair since he had easy access to it, the sniper having decided that Raylan's thighs were a suitable resting place. Raylan didn't quite enjoy the animated struggle that the characters on the screen were having, but he put up with it gladly because every once in a while a quiet giggle would slip from the sick male lying next to him. He didn't know exactly how far into the movie they were when Tim suddenly turned so that he was facing up and able to see Raylan's face.

"I want a bunny," was the completely unexpected statement that came from the sniper's mouth at Raylan's questioning glance.

"You want… a bunny?"

"Mhm, a little gray one that's fuzzy. Named something adorable," Tim explained with a small smile before he curled up again and nuzzled his face against Raylan's stomach, falling asleep shortly after. Not wanting to wake Tim up again, Raylan settled in and got as comfortable as he could sitting on the couch, forcing himself to catch a few hours of sleep as well.

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It took several more days and three boxes of medicine for Tim to feel well enough to go to work and Raylan to sleep easier at night. As luck would have it though, Tim's first day back at work had him sitting on a fire escape across the street from a bank that was being robbed. Of course Raylan had been inside, because it was Raylan's job to always be in danger of dying, and Tim had to watch through his scope, dividing his time between watching Raylan and watching the bank robbers. Being a sniper in the Rangers, Tim had gotten used to watching horrible acts happen through his scope and doing nothing until he was given the go ahead to shoot, but watching masked robbers beat on a fellow marshal/his boyfriend was probably one of the hardest. Tim had to keep his finger away from the trigger of his rifle more than half the time because he was afraid that he would just say 'fuck it' and shoot the men hurting Raylan. He couldn't of course, because the other robbers would shoot the hostages and Raylan would be mad and his pride would be wounded because Tim had to save him once again.

It took several hours and Tim watching Raylan getting his shoulder dislocated for the robbers to give up and submit to being arrested, but eventually the situation was resolved and Tim could scurry down from his post. He caught Raylan trying to sneak away from the scene and the paramedics that had been called and caught him by the good arm, dragging him behind a SWAT van to make sure he would survive to shoot someone another day.

"Tim, I'm fine. I just want to head home to shower and drink for a bit, 'kay?" Raylan said tiredly as Tim looked him up and down, eyes constantly going back to the bruised and bloody face he loved so much.

"Get checked out first, then I'll drive you anywhere you want," Tim nodded his head in the general direction of the ambulances, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth when Raylan set his expression in his stubborn way.

"I don't want to and you own me a bit of nursin' and doctorin' from when you were sick. Nothing that happened to me can't be fixed at home."

Tim would have tried to argue a bit more but Raylan pushed out a split lower lip in a pout and the sniper had to hang his head and went to go tell their boss that they were leaving. He didn't look back at Raylan, who knew he had won and was grinning happily. Finding Art was easy and Tim quickly jogged over to him, interrupting the local SWAT leader.

"Hey Art, I'm taking Raylan home to sleep off that beating he took. He should probably get tomorrow off too," Tim said in an emotionless tone, not caring that the SWAT guy shot him a glare. Art quickly excused himself from his previous conversation and pulled Tim off to a relatively private space between two cars.

"You can take him home and tell him not to come in tomorrow," Art began, then gave his sniper one of those 'I know you're hiding something' looks before continuing, "But first I wanted to ask how your living situation is going. Letting Raylan move into your apartment was an odd move for you, Tim."

Tim easily managed to place a bored expression on his face and rolled his eyes before speaking. "He needed a place to stay and we tend to keep the same hours anyhow. Plus this way you know he'll come to work when he's got a hangover because I'm not goin' to let him hide at home and then have to do all his work."

Art's expression said he didn't believe a word that Tim had just said, but the man himself said nothing and waved off his deputy before walking back to the irritated SWAT guy to finish listening to the man bitch. Tim quickly went back to Raylan and motioned for him to climb into the Yukon Tim had gone to the bank in.

"Lucky you were with Rachel or you'd have a hell of a time driving home with that shoulder," Tim remarked as he pointed the Yukon towards their apartment, taking careful notice of how Raylan winced at every sharp turn and pothole that Tim hit on purpose. About halfway there Raylan figured out that the sniper was intentionally making the car ride as uncomfortable for him as possible and frowned over at him, though Tim wouldn't have seen because he was carefully not looking towards Raylan at all anymore.

By the time Tim pulled into his usual parking spot in front of the building they lived in, Raylan was pale and grimacing while carefully holding his injured shoulder with a hand. Though he felt bad about making Raylan more hurt than he already was, Tim didn't show it and went ahead to open the door and get the giant Raylan-Proof first aid kit from the bathroom. When the injured marshal had finally managed to get inside and shut the door behind him Tim had already started to unpack the kit on the coffee table.

"Sit down, Raylan."

Frowning again, Raylan sat down on the couch next to Tim and let the sniper start to roughly clean out the cuts on his face. Having been with Tim for a while now, Raylan prided himself on being able to figure out the snipers moods and emotions 95% of the time but it seemed that this was one of those 5% times because for the life of him, he couldn't figure out why Tim was being such a dick. So he decided to go out on a limb and ask.

"Hey Tim? Why are you bein' such a dick?"

"I'm mad at you," was the reply that was given through pursed lips.

Raylan nodded and fell quiet again, letting Tim finish cleaning the blood from his face. The sniper was equally silent as he finished with the other marshal's face and motioned for him to remove the button up shirt he was wearing. Raylan slowly complied with several winces and a muted groan until the shirt was on the floor and Time could see his shoulder. The sniper looked over the injury for a minute before sighing.

"What something to drink? Jim, Jack, we got some vodka around here somewhere too."

"You're seriously gonna ask that? You know I want Ji.." Raylan's words were interrupted when Tim quickly grabbed the dislocated arm and popped it back into the socket, causing a loud, pained noise to come from the cowboy. "What the hell, Tim? Warn me next time!"

The sniper gave him a 'you're an idiot' look before standing up and heading into the kitchen to grab Raylan's liquor of choice, commenting dryly over his shoulder, "It would have hurt more had you been expecting it."

Raylan gave him a glare that lasted as long as it took to receive the half empty bottle and take a long pull from it. Tim seemed unfazed by the glare and perched himself on the arm of the couch with his arms crossed.

"So you wanna tell me why you're mad at me, or are you just gonna keep bein' an asshole?" Raylan asked as he placed the bottle next to the pile of dirty gauze that was used to clean his face.

"You keep putting yourself in situations where you could die, Raylan. So I'm hoping if your pain is drawn out some more it might get through your thick skull and make you think next time you try to get yourself killed."

Something clicked in Raylan's head and he suddenly understood that he had once again worried and scared Tim and now he was reacting to the emotions he probably couldn't acknowledge when he was behind the scope of his rifle. Hanging his head a little, Raylan sighed and reached out to curl his fingers around the sniper's bicep.

"I'm sorry Tim. I couldn't let those assholes hurt innocent people, but I should have thought it through better…" Raylan sounded appropriately apologetic and Tim sighed while moving to take a seat next to Raylan, leaning against his good shoulder. Raylan turned his head to press his lips to Tim's temple, then smiled faintly. "Would a blowjob help?"

The smile turned into a grin when Tim slowly nodded and Raylan slipped to his knees in front of the couch, his good hand moving to unbuckle the sniper's belt. The belt was easy enough to get undone with one hand, but the rather tight jeans required Raylan to grit his teeth against the pain in his shoulder and use both hands to quickly get the blue material open and tugged down enough that he would have access to the part of Tim's anatomy that was hidden. One hand was quickly sent to work rubbing fingers over the front of Tim's boxers until a noticeable change was felt. Raylan pulled out the slowly hardening member and started to slowly stroke it, calloused fingertips making sure to brush over every sensitive area he had found out about over the past several months. It didn't take long for Tim to become erect and a partially muted groan slipped from the sniper. Raylan licked his lips before leaning over and taking the head into his mouth, tongue swirling around it once before he took as much as he could into his mouth quickly. Tim's hands flew to Raylan's hair and his hips bucked before the cowboy could pin them back with one hand. Raylan wasted no time and started to suck on the cock in his mouth at a frustratingly slow pace until Tim growled and tightened his grip on Raylan's hair, tugging some.

"Raylan…" Tim hissed through his teeth, hips trying to move against the hand pressing against them in an effort to get more satisfaction. Smirking, Raylan quit teasing the other man and let his torturously slow pace speed up to one that would appease Tim while still remaining comfortable for himself. Raylan made sure to take as much of Tim's dick into his mouth as he could each time he went down, occasionally stilling and swallowing around the sniper before pulling back and resuming his normal pace. Tim could only hold out for so long against the feeling of being pushed into Raylan's throat before he tightened his grip on the older man's hair, warning him of the inevitable end coming. Raylan made no moves to pull away so Tim came in his mouth with a loud groan, eyes snapping open when Raylan sat back, swallowed, and chuckled.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing, just noticing that you aren't vocal during sex until the very end," Raylan smiled and moved up to brush his lips over Tim's, one hand brushing through the sniper's hair.

Tim wrinkled his nose and pushed himself back into his pants and pulled them back up, but didn't bother with the zipper or button. He then reached out and gripped the collar of Raylan's shirt, using it to tug the marshal down into a deep kiss. He refused to let Raylan go until he was sure both of their lips would be swollen, not that Raylan minded, and once the cowboy was allowed to pull back for air Tim slid his hands down and interlaced his fingers with Raylan's.

"Quit almost dying, 'kay? It's messing with my head."

"No promises Tim," Raylan whispered with a small smile, then retook a seat on the couch to lean against Tim.

"Ass."

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The next day Tim had to go back to work and Raylan was forbidden to come with under the penalty of no sex for a month. So Raylan had to find a way to otherwise occupy himself and after watching three John Wayne movies in a row, ended up driving his Lincoln to a pet store on the other side of Lexington. The moment he strolled through the door an overly helpful elderly lady came over to ask if he needed help. He almost said no out of habit, but the southern boy in him won out and he flashed a grin while touching the brim of his hat.

"I need a rabbit. A gray one."

"You're in luck! We got a bunch of baby bunnies because of the spring season. I'm sure there is one or two gray ones in the lot," the woman said and took his arm, dragging Raylan towards the back of the store. "Getting your girlfriend a present?"

Raylan stayed quiet for a few seconds before smirking and shaking his head, "Nah, got a kid who said he wanted a fluffy gray bunny. Didn't have the heart to say no."

"How sweet!" the woman, whose name tag Raylan noticed said 'Lettie', cooed before reaching into a circular tank and plucking out two gray rabbits. She handed them to Raylan to look at, laughing at the expression on his face.

"Are they supposed to be so small? I'm pretty sure they aren't," he muttered, looking over the two bunnies with a poorly disguised look of curiosity.

"They're still young, they'll get a bit bigger, but it's not like they're going to be the size of a dog," Lettie said with an amused tone, hands reaching out for the rabbit Raylan held out to her. Raylan shifted the rabbit still in his hands to get a better look at his face, sighing when he saw its twitchy nose.

"Yeah, you're a Tim bunny alright. Gonna have to take you home now."

A cooing sound made Raylan look up to see Lettie smiling widely at him, one hand pressing against her chest over her heart. "Oh honey, you're just so cute with that bunny! Are you gonna be needin' a cage to keep him in?"

Raylan nodded and held the bunny against her chest as she motioned for him to follow her to another part of the store. He saw a ton of different cages, but before Lettie could start telling him about them, Raylan quickly pointed to a black one whose box had a rabbit on it. "I'll just get that one. And food, I guess."

Twenty minutes later Raylan was making a few trips out to his car, toting a rabbit cage, food, treats, and bedding. Then the bunny itself in a box, which he carefully buckled into the front seat, trying not to think about how he just strapped a box with a bunny in it, into a seatbelt.

"I'm going soft in my old age," he muttered before backing out of the parking lot and heading back to the apartment, where he spent the better part of an hour setting up the rabbit cage and watching the bunny hop around the living room.

"Alright bunny, time to go in your cage. I gotta get some dinner, 'kay?"

Of course the rabbit didn't response in a positive or negative way and Raylan sighed and ran a hand over his face before going to put the bunny back in its bunny home. He then pulled out his cell phone and scrolled through the contacts until he found a friend chicken place that delivered and pushed the call button. It was easy to place an order for a huge tub of chicken and biscuits, which arrived via a bored looking man who thrust the bag of food at Raylan before quickly leaving again. Not ten minutes later did the front door open and Raylan ran to intercept Tim before he could get too far into the apartment.

"Raylan, care to explain why you're covering my eyes?" Tim asked with an amused smirk twisting his lips.

"I have a surprise for you, but you have to promise to keep your eyes closed until I say so, 'kay?"

The sniper snorted but nodded, dropping his work bag by his feet as he waited for Raylan to give him the okay to open his eyes. There was a weird metallic noise before he heard Raylan's boots make their way back in front of him.

"Alright, open."

Tim wasn't sure what he had been expecting the surprise to be, but a fluffy bunny sitting in Raylan's hands sure as shit wasn't it. It took quite a bit of will power to school his expression into an emotionless one that hid the entirely amused look that wanted to be present.

"A rabbit."

"Yeah, a bunny. You said you wanted one a few days ago and I got bored today and thought that I'd go look at a pet store to see what they had. And they had this little bunny and he made me think of you, so I just went ahead and got him for you," Raylan rambled for a while, pulling the animal closer to him with every sentence that came out while Tim still looked at him with a cool expression. When the sniper still didn't twitch or look amused at all Raylan frowned and held the bunny protectively against his chest, a hurt look appearing in his eyes as he said defensively, "I don't care if you don't like him, because I'm keeping him here."

Time sighed and stepped closer, one hand reaching out to touch Raylan's, his fingers brushing the soft fur of the rabbit. "Raylan, I never said I didn't like him. I'm just amused as hell that you went and got a rabbit, then got attached to it. Can I see him?"

Raylan gave Tim another frown before handing over the bunny and pushing his hands into his pockets. Tim looked down at the bunny, fingers moving over its back slowly as it nuzzled against his chest. A small smile twitched at the corner of his mouth, which Raylan saw when Tim glanced up.

"I suppose he's cute, but since you bought him, you have to take care of him. A pet is a big responsibility, Raylan."

"Oh shut up Tim. You sound like my mother did when I brought home a kitten when I was a kid," Raylan muttered and pulled one hand from his pocket to pull the brim of his hat lower on his forehead. Tim blinked and smirked at the unconscious embarrassed habit that Raylan had, then went to put the rabbit in a cage he spotted in the corner of the room. He then went and slipped his arms around Raylan's waist, leaning up to kiss the corner of his mouth.

"Thank you for the rabbit, Raylan. Even if I don't remember saying I wanted him."

Raylan gave an embarrassed wave of his hand before pulling away and heading to the kitchen to wash his hands before he started to dig into the bag of fried chicken. Tim followed his example and when they were both leaning against a counter with chicken in their hands, the sniper kicked out with his combat boots, hitting the side of Raylan's knee gently.

"What's his name?"

"Tim," Raylan said and went back to biting at the chicken.

"Pardon?"

"He's Tim the Bunny."

Tim closed his eyes to keep from laughing at Raylan. "Ray, you can't give my rabbit my name."

Raylan pouted a little and tossed the chicken bone into the trash bin before crossing his arms. "Then what's your bunny's name, Tim?"

"Sir Cuddlesworth." Tim said with a straight face, eyes daring Raylan to say something about the ridiculous nickname.

"I can live with that. If you agree to tell Rachel that you named your bunny Sir Cuddlesworth."

"It's worth it to hear you simply say the words 'Sir Cuddlesworth'."

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Rachel cracked up when Tim told her that Raylan got him a rabbit named Sir Cuddlesworth and it took over an hour for her to stop giggling every time she looked at either of her fellow marshals. Although it started up once again when Raylan emailed her a picture he had sneakily taken of Tim reading on the couch with the rabbit sitting on his shoulder. Her loud laughter made their boss curious and he came over to see what the fuss was. Raylan took the opportunity to tell Art that Tim made a bunny friend he named Sir Cuddlesworth and they were reading buddies now.

"Least I don't hand feed him vegetables like you do, Raylan," Tim said and pulled out his phone to show his own picture to Rachel and Art. Art raised his eyebrow at the phone before shaking his head and heading back to his office. Once he was sitting behind his desk, looking all boss-like and imposing, he called out for Tim and Raylan to come in there with him. The two exchanged a look before they walked in, Raylan shutting the glass door behind him.

"Do I look like an idiot to you?" Art asked with an upraised eyebrow. When Raylan opened his mouth to answer Art gave him a glare and said, "Answer that and you're fired."

Tim tried not to smirk as he sat down in one of the chairs in front of Art's desk, choosing to not stand next to Raylan, lest he piss off Art enough to start shooting.

"Alright dumbasses, listen to me. It's not against the law for marshals to be gay, it is the twenty-first century. However it is against marshal policy to hide relationships with other marshals. So either you two come out now and say you're dating and I can formally acknowledge it and get it over with or you two tone it the hell down and stop acting like fifteen year old girls with their first boyfriends. But know that if someone reports that you haven't told me about a relationship between the two of you, you'll both get in trouble and one or both of you will be transferred to other offices."

Raylan and Tim looked at each other before glancing back at Art, who was giving his 'I'm judging you' face. Raylan gave in first and adjusted his hat while quietly admitting, "Tim and I are dating."

"Raylan!" Tim sounded pissed as he shot a glare over at the other marshal, his fingers digging into the arms of the chair he was sitting in. "What the hell?"

Raylan looked startled for a second before a confused look crossed his face. "What? You heard him. He knew and neither of us wants to be transferred."

"You can't just decide to tell people without even talking to me about it first!" Tim hissed out before standing up and storming out of the office and back to his desk. Raylan and Art exchanged confused looks before Raylan moved to sit in the chair Tim had vacated.

"Apparently that was the wrong thing to do. Don't suppose I can take it back and say we're just friends and roommates?"

"No, you can't. But I will say I was not expecting that reaction from Tim. I know you two were trying to keep it quiet, but that was a little extreme. Should I be worried about him?" Art looked appropriately concerned as he looked out at the bullpen where Tim was moodily flipping through a file and ignoring Rachel.

"He's been all pissy lately because I keep getting hurt. I'll figure something out, 'kay?" Raylan said and when Art nodded, he started towards the door. He had almost completely left the office when Art called after him.

"Oh Raylan. We got an anonymous tip that Boyd Crowder was blowing shit up in Harlan. Why don't you take Tim and go see what's what?"

Raylan immediately grinned at the thought of getting to arrest Boyd again and nodded before going over to his desk and grabbing his car keys.

"Hey Tim, Art's sending me down to Harlan and said for you to come too, so I don't shoot too many people."

The sniper shot his boss a glare before he dropped the file he had been going through and getting up to follow Raylan to the elevators.

"Alright, I'm coming. But I'm not talking to you."


	2. Chapter 2

The car ride to Harlan was filled with an uncomfortable silence that was tinged with undertones of anger, and Raylan had a hard time not suddenly slamming his foot down on the break so he could try and get to the bottom of Tim's problem. Instead, he kept a white knuckle grip on the steering wheel and made sure his eyes only landed on the road ahead of them or the mirrors of his Lincoln while Tim read through the reports of recent explosions in buildings in Harlan.

"A thrift store, a used bookstore, and a restaurant that everyone was pretty sure was a front for prostitutes," Tim said in his dry tone as they drove through Harlan streets, heading for Johnny's bar. "There are bookstores in Harlan? I'm impressed."

"Yes, imagine that. Hillbillies can read," Raylan muttered in a voice that showed he was slightly offended for his hometown. "Though I'm pretty sure people went there to buy meth from the owner."

"And the thrift store?"

"Cheap clothes. And fake I.D's."

Tim shook his head and closed the file before tossing it on the dashboard and leaning back in his seat. A frown tugged at his lips as he pondered the three explosions, then when he was unable to come up with an explanation, glanced over at Raylan. "So what do they have in common besides being fronts for illegal activities? I figure that's pretty common in Harlan. The churches here probably sell stuff out of there back rooms."

The sniper wasn't expecting Raylan to suddenly press his foot to the brake pedal of the car, so when it suddenly jerked to a stop he was sent flying towards the dashboard. Raylan's arm flashing out to stop his body's momentum was the only thing that stopped him from most likely hitting his head.

"First off, that's pretty blasphemous Tim. The house of the Lord is a sacred place. And secondly, not everyone in Harlan is a criminal. It will get you further here if you remember that and don't treat everyone like shit under your feet," Raylan frowned as he pulled his arm away from Tim and placed it back on the steering wheel, resuming the drive to Johnny's in silence.

It wasn't until they were out of the car and walking across the parking lot that Tim finally spoke up, one hand reaching out to touch Raylan on the arm. "I'm sorry."

"About assuming things about Harlan or about exploding at me at the office?"

Tim winced and shook his head, not wanting to get into that argument outside of a bar in Harlan. Huffing in irritation when he saw Tim wasn't going to say anything, Raylan walked the few last feet and yanked open the dingy door to walk into the building.

"Why U.S. Deputy Marshal Raylan Givens! What a pleasant surprise this is, isn't it Cousin Johnny?" was drawled out as the two marshals walked into the bar and caught sight of Boyd Crowder casually leaning against the bar's top.

"Can't say it is," Johnny muttered from his seat at a table, a half full glass in front of him.

"Boyd," came Raylan's voice and Tim could see his easy smile showing up at the sight of his worst enemy/best friend. "We been getting reports of explosions down here in Harlan. I know how much you love to blow shit up, so I figured a trip was in order."

"Why Raylan you always go straight to business, don't you? You haven't even introduced your fellow marshal or uttered a word of greeting to me." Boyd gave Raylan a grin as he placed his hands on the surface in front of him, leaning over the bars top slightly.

"Deputy Tim Gutterson," Raylan said and waved a hand at Tim before sauntering over to the bar and leaning across from Boyd. "Now, 'bout them explosions that been happenin' 'round here?"

"Not me, Raylan. In fact, I am quite invested myself in finding out who's been blowing places up in my town. If you remember, those businesses used to be under my daddy's protection in the day."

Raylan frowned and glanced over at Tim before reaching up to take off his hat, placing it next to his hand. "Well shit. So it's a message to you from some idiot. 'Cause I know you been takin' over your daddy's business these last few months, ain't you Boyd? Those people been payin' you protection money and someone hit them to get your attention."

Another grin appeared on Boyd's face as he stared at Raylan, a completely amused look showing clearly in the green eyes. "Why Raylan, I am a simply business owner myself. Don't know nothin' about protection money."

The two Harlan boys stared at each other as Tim watched with a frown, his hand hovering by his hip in case he had to pull out his Beretta. The sniper, like everyone else in Kentucky, was confused about the relationship between Raylan and Boyd. They seemed to always be at odds and trying to mess up the other's plans, but Tim also knew that Raylan trusted Boyd to have his back in life threatening situations and he was the only one that could bring out Raylan's Harlan accent in full force. As he watched the two have a stare down, Raylan's lips twitched up in a grin and he suddenly took a step back while grabbing his hat.

"Well alright Boyd, if that's your story. But if you hear anything about them explosions, you give me a call, 'kay?"

It seemed as though a secret agreement was sealed as Boyd nodded and Raylan slipped his hat back on and headed towards the door, grabbing Tim's arm on the way. Tim felt an ugly flash of jealousy go through him when Boyd lifted a hand and waved at the two of them.

"Goodbye Raylan, I look forward to your next visit."

Tim waited until they were in the Lincoln with their seatbelts buckled to speak up. "What the hell is between you two, Ray?"

Raylan looked surprised for a few seconds before he smiled softly, "You don't call me Ray anywhere but at home."

"And you suppress your accent around everyone but Boyd. So again I ask, what the hell?"

"Me and Boyd dug coal together. It makes a connection between two guys that can't really be explained," Raylan said with a shrug as he turned his eyes away from Tim and started up the car.

"Well it more sounds like you two are secretly dating," Tim huffed as he crossed his arms and turned his head to look out the window.

"The only person I'm dating that apparently has to be kept a secret at all costs is you Tim," came Raylan's answer and Tim winced at the poorly disguised hurt tone to it.

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It took about ten minutes for Tim to realize that Raylan wasn't headed towards the highway that had brought them down to Harlan, but further into the county itself. Just as he was about to open his mouth and ask where they were going, the Lincoln pulled to a stop next to a rundown truck in front of an even more run down house. Glancing over, the sniper saw Raylan hesitate, then steel himself and got out of the car with one hand settling protectively on his hat. Tim got out as well and followed his partner up the sidewalk, his unasked question of where they were getting answered when he saw the headstones of Frances, Arlo, and horrifically, Raylan. He wasn't aware that he had quit walking and was staring at the headstone of a person who was definitely not dead yet, until that person placed one hand on Tim's shoulder and squeezed gently.

"They freaked me out as a kid, too. But it's okay now," Raylan said in a soothing tone before he glanced over his shoulder at the two older people with guns in their hands. "Come on Tim, we gotta ask Arlo about the explosions."

After nodding stiffly, Tim followed Raylan up the walkway a few more yards, imitating him when he saw Raylan's hand hovering by his gun. The woman scoffed at the motions and gestured for them to head into the house with her shotgun.

"There's no need to start shooting, Raylan. Just come in the house and ask whatever it is you came to ask. I know you didn't come to just chat with your father and me."

Raylan shrugged one shoulder and followed her into the house, Tim and Arlo on his heels, hands still on their guns. Once inside, Tim glanced around and saw a few pictures on the walls, but couldn't make out exactly what they were underneath layers of dust.

"So exactly what is it that you want, boy?" Arlo grunted as he took a seat on an armchair, shotgun still held loosely in his hands.

"Someone's been blowing up businesses under Boyd's protection. I figured you of all people would know which ones he gets paid to protect, which would tell us which one is gonna get hit next," Raylan said to Arlo, though he was more looking towards the woman, whose name Tim suddenly remembered was Helen.

"Why would we know anything about something like that, Raylan?" Helen asked with her arms crossed, eyes flicking at her husband.

"Arlo knows all about what Boyd's doing. Just rattle off some names so I can get back to Lexington. I've had a trying day.

Tim felt guilty about that, knowing it was his fault, but said nothing as he tried to move closer to a table with pictures on it without anyone noticing. Helen saw and narrowed her eyes, but didn't bring attention to it as she went back to looking between Raylan and Arlo. The sniper's eyes landed on a picture of Raylan in a suit, his arm around a pretty girl in a dress, and a bruise across his cheek. If you looked closely enough you could also see Raylan's split lip and a healing bruise that wasn't quite hidden by the collar of his shirt. Apparently Raylan had gotten into a fight a few days before a school dance and someone had decided to take his picture anyhow.

"If I tell you who to go bug to find out what place is gonna be hit next, will you get out of Harlan?" Arlo asked Raylan, who smirked and nodded once.

"Give me a name and after I talk to them, Tim and I will be headed home," he promised while Tim slipped back to Raylan's side.

"Go to Palmer's music store. She'll know who's doing the bombing."

Raylan looked smug and tipped his hat at his father and aunt before turning and quickly walking out of the house with Tim next to him. They both glanced at the headstones again as they passed, but just as Tim started to slow to a stop again Raylan's hand landed on his elbow and he was pulled along to the car.

"It's best not to think about the headstones Tim. They were a creepy money saving idea of Arlo's back when I was a kid. I won't be buried under mine anyhow."

"You have a fucked up life, Raylan."

The cowboy laughed quietly and slipped behind the steering wheel, waiting for Tim to get in as well before starting up the car and driving away from his childhood home, going over the speed limit. "I'm not gonna argue with that one."

"Who takes a picture of their kid when they're all bruised to hell? Even if they were going to a school dance?" Tim asked after a few minutes went by and they were far enough away from the house for Raylan to feel safe enough to slow back down.

"What? Oh that picture. My mama wanted proof that I went out somewhere in a suit. And it's not like she could wait for the bruises to go away to get a good picture 'cause I was always bruised up back then."

Tim turned his head to look over at Raylan, one eyebrow raised up in a questioning way that Raylan smiled at.

"Arlo."

That one word irked Tim more than he could possibly say and one hand drifted to rest at his hip where his Beretta was, and he made a mental note to dig through Arlo's records when they got back to the Marshal's building. Fortunately, they didn't get into the topic of Arlo beating on his son because Raylan pulled up in front of a building with "Palmer's Music" on it and parked. The two marshals went through the front door and glanced around the small shop, unable to see anyone.

"Maybe she's in the back," Raylan remarked and started to head to a door marked 'private' while Tim waited by a row of dusty guitars, hand resting on the handle of his gun. As he watched, Raylan opened the door and glanced in, then swore loudly. Tim raised his eyebrows and started to head over that way, but Raylan quickly shut the door and turned to walk back to the front door, his hand catching Tim's arm.

"We're leaving, there's a bomb in there," was the explanation Tim got as he was shoved towards the Lincoln, which Raylan quickly started and drove about thirty feet down the street. When the car was put in park again, Tim turned in his seat and was just in time to see the glass windows shatter and fire and smoke explode out of the building, a huge noise ringing out and making nearby buildings shake. Tim watched with a blank face as a drum rolled down the street on fire while Raylan started to quietly curse.

"Hey Ray?"

"Yeah Tim?"

"We almost just died." Tim turned his head to look at Raylan, who smiled faintly and nodded.

"Well I suppose we did," he agreed.

"Your dad sent us there," the sniper commented and watched as Raylan's smile faded and was replaced by an angry look.

"I know," Raylan muttered and slipped out of the car to call Art about what happened while Tim got out and walked down to stare at the burning building with an expressionless face. The sounds of Raylan talking into his phone slipped away as Tim kicked a piece of burning debris with his foot, mind transported back to a time in Afghanistan when he had watched a building blow up with several boys he had known inside it. Part of his mind still stuck in the desert watching people he had talked and joked with die, he was startled enough when Raylan touched his shoulder to whip his hand out and catch the other marshal's face with his first.

"Fuck, Tim!" Raylan cursed with a hand moving up to touch his cheekbone, making sure that the skin hadn't split. The vacant look in the sniper's eyes spoke volumes to Raylan and he carefully reached out to place his hands over Tim's. "Hey Tim? It's okay, alright?"

Tim frowned and shook his head a few times to clear it, then looked at Raylan with a confused expression on his face. "What now?"

"I said its okay. We're okay now."

The sniper scoffed and glanced down at their hands, pulling his away quickly when he remembered they were in public and a crowd of people had started to gather across the street. "Don't touch me when people can see Raylan."

Hurt flashed over Raylan's face before being replaced by an angry look. "Why not? I think we should get through some of your shit before Art gets here and sees the mess that we're in."

Eyebrows raising slowly, Tim asked, "My shit?"

"Yes, your assholeness and the apparent need to keep this all a secret when apparently, no one give a shit," Raylan said and gestured between the two of them with a hand.

"No one is supposed to know," Tim muttered.

"Ashamed?" There was a hurt look on Raylan's face again, hidden to anyone who didn't really know the man like Tim did.

"Not of you."

"Of what then, Tim?" Raylan sighed as he pulled his hat from his head, then ran fingers from his free hand through his hair.

Tim was debating on answering Raylan truthfully when he was saved by the arrival of the local cops, who gave Raylan a tired look. Before they could ask the Harlan native what happened, Tim started to explain to save himself from having to look at the other marshal again or back at the still burning building. After describing what had happened to the best of his ability, the sniper went to lean against the back of the Lincoln, waiting with his head down for the police to tell them they could leave.

[][][][][]

The fire trucks had finished putting out the blaze and almost everyone in the crowd of gawkers had drifted away when Art and Rachel pulled up to the scene of the latest explosion. Raylan could see that Art had his grim face on and Rachel her professional one, though underneath both were hints of amusement. The two greeted the local sheriff before heading over to Raylan, a smirk tugging at the corner of Art's mouth.

"I should have known better than to send you Raylan. Had Rachel and Tim gone instead, there probably would been no problem, but the second you cross the county line it seems God decides to make everything a little more deadly."

At that Raylan had to smile and touch the brim of his hat with his fingertips. "Maybe you'll learn to quit sending me into my native habitat then."

"How's Tim?" Rachel suddenly interrupted, glancing over at where the other marshal was still leaning against Raylan's car.

"He's having a bad day," Raylan said and gave Art a pointed look in the sniper's direction. "Maybe someone should go talk to him."

"Alright asshole, I'll be right back," Art muttered as he walked away from two deputies of his deputies to go to the third. Right as he got within six feet of the sniper, he was suddenly pinned with an emotionless look that he would never admit gave him small chills. "Hey Tim. Heard you been having a hard day."

"Whatever gave you that idea? Almost getting blown up by some backwoods hillbilly gets me off better than a blowjob," Tim's sarcasm helped the sniper mask whatever was really troubling him, and it even made the chief smile faintly.

"Well don't tell Raylan that. I'm sure his feelings would be hurt."

Tim flinched and crossed his arms tighter over his chest while turning his head to the side, a dead giveaway for Art that he had come close to the root of whatever was causing Tim to be so off. Sighing at the idiocy of youth, the elder man leaned against the trunk with his hands in his pockets.

"For the record, I see absolutely no problem with what you and Raylan are doing. And I know Rachel goes drinking with a gay guy she met once, so I doubt she has a problem with it either," Art commented casually.

There was another flinch before the lost, bright blue eyes of the sniper turned in his direction and the Chief Deputy's heart hurt to see the pain in them.

"I don't know how to do this with him. I've had to hide it so long, between my father and the army. Everyone said it was wrong."

"Your daddy?"

Tim nodded and seemed to shrink into himself at the mere mention of the man, one had unconsciously rubbing a spot on his inner elbow where Art knew there was a series of small circular burns that overlapped each other. Giving a long suffering sigh because he seemed to get all the damaged marshals in his office, Art reached over and placed his hand on the sniper's shoulder, ignoring the involuntary wince the action caused.

"Son, I'm telling you now that it's okay to be who you are. It's just how you were born, part of what makes you..you. Just like Raylan's an asshole and has the hat and is always staring at you like you're priceless and Rachel has her obsession with post-its. And how I'm good looking and have to beat the ladies off with a stick."

Tim had to smirk over at his boss who was smiling as well and pretending to run a hand through hair he had long since lost. "You have to beat them with sticks, huh?"

"It's the hearing aids. Gets them every time, son."

Tim wasn't quite sure how the conversation lifted all the weight off of his shoulders, but as Art pushed away from the car and his gaze landed on Raylan, who was next to Rachel and giving him a worried look, he couldn't help but smile. The cowboy looked startled for a second before he smiled back faintly, one hand reaching up to touch the brim of his hat in a smooth motion that made Tim roll his eyes. The sniper was just about to go over and join the two other deputies when he caught sight of Boyd Crowder hovering nearby and pushed off the back of the car to go satisfy a bit of curiosity. He stopped a few feet away from Boyd and put his hands on his hips, giving the criminal a stare.

"Deputy Gutterson," Boyd drawled out, looking faintly amused that the sniper was the one to come over to talk to him.

"Mr. Crowder, I regret to inform you that the building you weren't being paid to protect was blown up about ten seconds after Raylan and I ran out of it," Tim told him and watched the Harlan criminal's eyes widen briefly before they landed on Raylan, who was watching the exchange with a wary expression.

"Well I am happy that neither of you are hurt deputy, are either of you hurt?" The soft drawl couldn't cover the underlying tone of worry that came with Boyd's voice.

"Raylan's just fine. You know him, walks out of deadly situations almost every day without a scratch. I do want to ask you something though," Tim shifted his weight slightly to bring Boyd's eyes back to him, smirking at the suddenly emotionless, criminal wall Crowder pulled up.

"Why Deputy Gutterson, I cannot imagine what it is that you have to ask me."

Whatever Boyd had been preparing himself to hear, it probably wasn't Tim's next question because he actually looked shocked for the half a second his wall slipped. "What is it between you and Raylan? I can't tell if you've fucked or just want to."

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean, Deputy," Boyd said softly before he quickly turned away and got in his car, driving away quickly as Raylan came over to stand next to Tim.

"What was that about?"

"Just a friendly conversation," Tim murmured and turned to face Raylan, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "About ready to go home?"

Raylan's eyebrows quirked before he grinned and glanced around them, "Well I don't know, this place is just so much fun right now…"

The sniper playfully pushed the other marshal on the shoulder before shaking his head and walking over to their boss and Rachel, who raised her eyebrow at him. Tim just gave her a smirk before turning his gaze to their boss, who looked strangely smug about everything.

"Well ladies and gentleman, I think it's time for the Marshal Service to head back up to Lexington. Explosions don't fall under our purview unless set by a fugitive and that can't be proven here. Tim you rode up here with Raylan, you can ride back with him."

Tim tried to keep an amused expression off of his face as he glanced at Rachel, then turned around and headed back to where he left Raylan, calling over his shoulder, "Try not to get drawn in by the hearing aids, Rachel."

Leaving her wondering exactly what the hell that meant, Tim caught Raylan by the elbow and started to gently pull him towards the Lincoln, "Art says it's time to head back to the office and do paperwork. Drive slowly."

There was a small smile on Raylan's face as he nodded and slipped into his black car, waiting for Tim to get in before he started to drive towards the highway and Lexington slow enough that Tim could hang onto one of his hands without putting them in danger of crashing.

[][][][][]

Giving their statements and finishing up all the irritating paperwork that came with being a marshal took way too damned long in Raylan's opinion and by the time he was finished, he was practically bouncing in his seat with the desire to go home for the day. After placing his last file on the stack on the corner of his desk, Raylan glanced to his right to see if Tim was done as well. The sniper was focusing pretty intently on his computer, finger pressing the button on his mouth every few seconds. Hoping to get an estimate of how much longer Tim was going to be, Raylan leaned back in his seat enough to get a good look at the computer screen. A small smile worked its way onto his face when he saw the half-finished Solitaire game that Tim was playing and he shook his head.

"Aren't you still on the clock, Tim?"

"Yeah, but I'm pretty sure the marshals would want me to use this time to improve my brain. Have to be able to have a big enough one for the both of us," Tim replied in a bored tone, still clicking away at the cards on his screen.

"Well when you finish your game, I'll be at home," Raylan said as he slipped his hat on his head and headed for the door with a wave at Art and Rachel. Taking the elevators down to the entrance of the building, he almost groaned at the sight of Winona smiling at him.

"Raylan! I was just leaving to go grab something to eat, want to join me?" She smiled brightly at him and clung to one of his arms, nails digging in slightly.

"Actually I have stuff that I need to get done, sorry," Raylan gave her an apologetic smile and tried to pull his arm away only to have her nails dig in more.

"I'm sure whatever it is can wait, can't it?" Winona gave him her best pouty look and pressed closer to Raylan, much to the dislike of a sniper that had come down in the second elevator just a minute after the other marshal.

"Well, no it can't.." Raylan said in an uncomfortable tone and tried to pull away again.

Tim decided to take pity on Raylan and have a little fun at the same time. So he smiled and walked over to place his hand on Raylan's shoulder. "Hey Raylan, what are you still doing here? Thought you had a date? With that one person. Didn't you say they were really hot? Shouldn't keep them waiting."

Winona loosened her grip in either surprise or jealously at the mentioning of Raylan having a date, which he used to his advantage and pulled away from her, giving Tim an amused look. "Well that I do, Tim. Thanks for reminding me."

As Tim waved a hand to say it was no problem, Winona started up her pouting again. "A date? With who?"

Raylan reached up to adjust his hat before replying, "Oh this guy I been seein' for a while. Probably shouldn't keep him waitin'."

Tim couldn't help but smirk at Winona's pissed off look and Raylan's hat tip as he escaped the building, then waved goodbye as well and followed the cowboy outside. He wasn't in a hurry to leave so by the time he got his Yukon started, Raylan's Lincoln had already left the parking lot. Tim couldn't help but be in a good mood the entire way back to his apartment, where he found Raylan sitting on the floor with the rabbit in his lap.

"Your date might be jealous that you would rather spend more time with his rabbit than greet him, y'know."

"I'm pretty sure he wouldn't mind me checking on Sir Cuddlesworth," Raylan pet the bunny one last time before putting it away and getting to his feet gracefully, then moving over to slip his arms around Tim's waist. "Are you jealous of a bunny, Tim?"

"Oh, just burning with it," came Tim's sarcastic drawl as he leaned into Raylan, who laughed quietly.

"Poor Tim, let me show you how much more I love you," Raylan kissed the sniper sweetly before taking his hand and heading towards the bedroom where he gently pushed Tim down on the bed, climbing on top of him. Raylan started to slowly kiss down Tim's jaw to his neck while his fingers worked on the sniper's shirt buttons. He had maybe half of them undone when Tim started to snicker and pushed himself up on his elbows.

"Don't most people on dates get taken to dinner before they have to put out?"

Raylan groaned and dropped his head on Tim's shoulder, much to the sniper's amusement.

"Tim!"


End file.
